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He had seen her eyes flick towards a book on her coffee table and land there for a few moments before she answered him. It just looked like an old scrapbook, but it was the eye motion that convinced him she had lied.
“I told you. He’s a client. Any further discussion would be in violation of his attorney-client privileges.”
“I think it’s more than that. You know these guys that you’re defending are bad dudes, right?”
“Everyone deserves a defense. I’m doing my job, and you have no right to tell me how I should do it. If I weren’t defending these guys, the next person in line in the courtroom would be.” As usual, she looked vexed. Why did she always look that way when he was around? “Besides, just because bad ass agents such as yourself arrest them, that doesn’t mean they’re automatically guilty. This is America, you know.”
Corbett sighed as he poured his cup of coffee. It had been exasperating trying to talk to her. He found himself wishing that she were at least ugly. It was hard sometimes to look at someone so attractive and keep the heat in his argument. But she was right; he had no right to tell her how to do her job. He had never tried to do it with any other attorney. He didn’t know why she was different. He didn’t even like her, looks aside.
That said, he knew he was right about the gut feeling he had about her connection to these guys. But for now, he needed to shake it off and get back to work.
Stella awaited him. He was taking his Harley on a long ride today, and he was sure she was going to love it. He walked out into the garage and flipped on the light switch. She gleamed under the fluorescent lights, and he could swear she looked happy to see him. He pulled on his black leather gloves and put on his helmet. Her headlight seemed to be watching him as he walked over towards her and slid onto the smooth leather of her seat. He felt that thrill that he always got when Stella was between his legs, and as he fired her up and listened to her purr, he told himself that his last girlfriend had been wrong. There was nothing abnormal about his relationship with his bike.
CHAPTERTHIRTEEN
ACCUSED
San Antonio, Texas
Courthouse
Tuesday Morning
Naomi feltsick to her stomach as she sat in the courtroom today. She wished it was the venti caramel latte with the extra shot she’d had this morning that had done it. She knew, though, that it was a combination of two other things. The first one was seeing Corbett at her door last night. The man was incorrigible! Who did he think he was coming to her home? He acted almost as entitled as her next problem.Well, maybe not that bad, she thought as she watched the other “problem” being led into the room by the correctional officers.
Most definitely not that bad, she reassessed. At least Corbett was one of the good guys, for the most part, and nice to look at. Ayden was neither. She had been “assigned” to him when he’d been brought in by the DEA on drug trafficking charges, but she knew he had requested her. He always did. The DA had strenuously argued against bail being set, due to his history of violence and the known fact that he was a general in the Aryan Brotherhood. Naomi had really done her best to argue for the bail, although she didn’t want him set free any more than anyone else did. He wasn’t too pissed at her when they lost. He could control his empire from inside just as well as he could outside.
His trial was supposed to begin yesterday, but the DA had requested a one-day postponement, which was granted. She was prepared to begin the trial today, but then she received a phone call this morning that changed everything. That’s when her stomach began to turn.
Last night, she had held out hopes that no matter how well she presented his case, they would lose, and he would go to prison. But after receiving that phone call, she was instead presenting a motion to the judge to have the charges against him dropped completely.
A large amount of cocaine that had been held in evidence was now missing, and so was a very important witness in the case. Naomi was going to argue that, without the evidence or the witness, they had no case. The part about it that made her so sick was that she was sure Ayden’s crew had a hand in both.
He sat down next to her at the defense table in the courtroom and smiled. “How’s things, Naomi?” he said casually, like they were old friends.
“Well, thank you,” she answered. She pretended to be engrossed in the file in front of her, hoping that he wouldn’t continue to make conversation. It was to no avail.
His next words were what kept her doing this.
“I haven’t seen the boy in a while. How’s he doing?”
Naomi looked at the minimal excuse for a man sitting next to her and wanted to punch him in the face. He probably knew better than she did how Justin was doing, since her brother was serving a sentence in Dominguez right now that Ayden should be serving himself. The only thing that kept her sane with Justin behind bars was knowing that Ayden paid those animals he controlled in there to watch out for him—as long as she kept doing what she did. It made her sick to be in any kind of cahoots with this man. She had sold him her half of the business her father left her, and she prayed every day that once Justin was home safe, she could cut all ties. He was in the last nine months of his sentence. Almost there…
“He’s fine, Ayden,” she said. “Let’s talk about the motion today, okay?” He grinned at her. God, this man disgusted her to her very core.
“Not much to talk about. It seems our illustrious District Attorney lost some evidence… and a witness, right? I don’t think there’s much for me to worry about other than what I’m gonna have first when I get home tonight: a steak or a beer.”
Thankfully, the judge called the court to order. It was perfect timing. She hated when Ayden tried to make small talk with her. He was so familiar with her; he had even told her once that since he’d practically raised her brother, they were like family. He was one family member Naomi couldn’t wait to leave behind, but she shook off those thoughts and tried to concentrate on what the judge was saying.
“Miss Ward, I’ve read your motion to the court. Mr. Lane,” he said, addressing the Assistant District Attorney, “you have a copy as well. I see that the defendant is in the court, and I’m ready to hear arguments on this matter. Miss Ward.”
Naomi stood. “Thank you, your honor. As I stated in my motion, the district attorney’s office seems to have misplaced two bricks of cocaine with a street value of thirty-six to fifty thousand dollars. I have also been told that the star witness for the prosecution, a man who allegedly saw my client purchase said cocaine for resale, is missing. I feel without these two key pieces of evidence, the district attorney’s office should drop all charges against my client. Thank you.” She smoothed her skirt and sat down. She didn’t look at Ayden, but she could see him grinning at her out of the corner of her eye.
“Your Honor,” the prosecutor began, “our investigators are looking into the disappearance of the cocaine. We’ve even called in the local authorities and the DEA. It was stored here in the courthouse evidence vault so that it would be available for trial this week. As of yesterday morning, it was accounted for. As for the witness, Your Honor, we are looking at the possibility that he was coerced into leaving, or that something may have happened to him.”
“You’re looking into it, Mr. Lane?”
“Yes, Your Honor. There are a lot of attorneys who, along with the bailiffs and the clerks, have access to that vault for a variety of reasons. We are gathering a list of anyone who may have accessed it yesterday, and who actually had a need to access it. We’re also reviewing the surveillance video. As far as the witness, his wife says that he left in her car two days ago, on Sunday. We have a BOLO out on the car and the witness.”
